Cas
by SiSuHu
Summary: Oneshot about Castiel, has Destiel content, it's the counterpart to my OS "Dean", plays at the beginning of season 7 (with alternated happenings)


**Cas**

The lake's surface sparkles playfully in the sun that reappears from its hide out behind the clouds. It looks beautiful. Nicer than some things I was allowed to see on this earth so far. Or had to. Everything looks so peaceful, so untroubled and untouched. Who could have suspected, that there has happened something at this very lake some time ago, which no one could have prevented. Nobody would believe it, if you told him about it. Except for Bobby Singer and Sam and Dean Winchester. They have witnessed it with their own eyes. Have seen how the Leviathans have dispersed in the lake like a black plague. And nobody knows, how many they are really.

It's all my fault. How could I believe to be the new God? How couldn't I think about the souls from Purgatory having an effect on me? How could I be so naive? How could I do that to him? He has tried so hard to be loyal, to believe in me, to defend me. And I? I went behind his back. Done exactly what everyone has feared. And I lied to his face with a smile, as he asked for the truth. And when I achieved what I intended to, and thought I was the new God, I even wanted him to kneel down before me. I have scared him. I was angry and hurt.

All this time I have done everything for him, saved him again and again and protected him and even fell for him. And what did he do? He didn't want to trust me this one time I asked him to, this one time I wanted him to stand by my side. I have done everything for him. Have saved everyone he ever loved at least once. I've rescued Sam from Hell. Revived Bobby, after Lucifer and Michael were back in the cage. Healed Lisa, after she has been abducted. And I've even fulfilled his wish to erase their memories of him. Even when I didn't think it was a good idea. I can't deny, that inside I felt something like relief. Why? Because every person loved by Dean less brought me a little closer to him. I'm still at the bottom of it all. And still, I haven't liked to do it, because Lisa and Ben were Dean's family and made him happy. And I want him to be happy. Nothing do I want more.

I have been standing here at the lake for hours now. Maybe for days even. I stare at the lake I died in. Technically I am dead. But nevertheless I am standing here. Looking almost the same as ever. Just missing my trench coat. But I know where it is. And I can't help but smile about it. I like that Dean has taken it with him and I imagine that I can't be so unimportant to him. He already said that I'm like a brother to him, but I don't want to believe that. And even when it's true, I'm still at the bottom of it all.

‚… _that besides Sam you and Bobby are the closest thing I have to a family, that you're like a brother to me?'_ , it echoes inside my head. Besides Sam. Never will I mean as much to him as his brother or Bobby. Also, I'm not sure I actually want to be like a brother to him. One, I care about him in a completely different way. And two, I don't really want to be part of his family. I've never felt like belonging there. And I also know how it looks to be his family. Always would he sacrifice himself for me, do everything to keep me alive, even risk his own life for it. No. I don't want that. I don't want him to do this for me. I thought I do, but I don't.

He is the only person I really care about on this planet. And I can say that, because I only know a handful of people. Obviously I like Sam, I like Bobby. They are my friends. But never could they be as important to me as Dean. And regardlessly, I am still standing here, not really knowing why. Although I know exactly where I want to be, I still don't know where to go. I don't know, if I should go to him. Would he even want to see me, would he even talk to me? I notice that it has already become dark around me and sit down on a wooden bench. After hesitating a bit, I decide to look, if he is asleep. Of course I don't know where he is. I could find out. But I don't need to know, where he is.

I close my eyes and concentrate. He es asleep. He is dreaming. I allow myself to get inside his dream to see if he is alright. I look around and it feels familiar to me. It's a memory. We were standing in Bobby's kitchen. I just now tell him that he needs to show respect. That I could get him back into hell. I already scared him back then. At least I've tried, believing it to be the best way to make him do what Heaven wanted him to. With insecure eyes he looks at dream-me, then directly at me. I know he can't see me, I've made sure he can't, but it still feels good to get a chance to look right into his green eyes.

When the surroundings begin to change, I know he moves on into another dream. Now we're in a motel room. Dean is standing in front of the mirror above the sink, when I suddenly appear right behind him. The me of the memory. Startling Dean turns around. I remember this moment. We were standing together so close and looking at each other. It's strange to observe this scene from the outside. You can see that Dean feels uncomfortable with me being so close to him. Every moment he will tell me to move away a little. But suddenly something changes. Dean changes.

He acts out of character. He changes the memory. His face becomes softer, his repelling attitude fades away. He lifts a hand and places it on my face, on the memory's face. He smiles. Softly he fondles the memory's cheek. He seems happy, even when a little afflicted. But the memory washes out, disappears and Dean stays behind alone. He looks at the floor sadly and I want to take the place of the memory to see him so happy again. But I don't. I can't. I don't want to. As I notice a small, sparkling tear on his cheek I need to go.

I find myself back on the rotten wooden bench at the lake. I have seen him so often like this. Sad, devastated by life's cruelty. Rarely anyone could get him back up again. Rarely it was about me. Never. Never was it about me. Why it is about me now I can neither explain, not allow myself to think. I am important, but not important enough. And not close enough to touch the cheek of a dreamt version of me. At least not in reality. In Dean's reality I am dead. And in his dreams I am closer to him than I have ever been when alive.

I stare to the sky, as if to hope to find answers to all my questions there. But it's just dark and heavy and full of the light of stars that are already dead. And I find comfort in the thought, that in my death I am a light in Dean's darkness like the dead stars are in today's night. Lightyears it took until their light has reached us, and when it was finally here, they're long gone. It feels like that is me. As if it took me decades and millenniums to finally understand, where my place is. And I allow myself to smile, because I see.

My place is found. Detected and accepted and called on. Here. Here with Dean. By his side. I don't show myself just now, I don't want to scare him. He finds me dead and before I verify the opposite to him, I must think about how. I watch him. He's awake again. His body is leaning against the wall, braced on both forearms. I slowly move towards him, as if to sneak up, even when I know that he can't see me, I'm still scared to be detected too soon. His eyes are closed and his hands move through is hear, like he always does it, whenever he doesn't know how to go on. I can hardly bear the sight of it. I hate it. My friend. My best friend. My Dean.

He stands back up and I see something in his eyes I didn't suspect. Determination. Pure, white glowing determination. At first I don't understand. But then something glistens inside him and he stares in my direction, as if he could see me. And I feel responsible. I feel how I make my end to his. I have to show myself.

Dean wipes away the tears in his face hastily and all the determination and all the pain are gone. Of course. Of course he notices I'm here. He just needs to find me. I could just say something, but I still believe that I would scare him. And I am scared. I've finally found him, I need him to find me as well.

He looks in my direction, but doesn't seem to recognize me. And I take all my hope and put the blame on the many empty bottles in this room and the tears in his eyes. But Dean doesn't look like his instinct anymore. No defense, no aggression, not ready to fight. Only complete indifference in his eyes and emptiness in his body. He seems barely able to keep his lids open. Weak and powerless. It is as if he wouldn't care what happens to him. As if he wouldn't function anymore. Not without me. But I am here. And he doesn't see me.

His hand rubs across his face, as if it would unveil something and there it is. The stare. The realization. The shock. And he stands there like rooted to the ground and unmoving like a statue, and even I notice how time seems to stand still. My human body heats up to an uncomfortably, almost painfully hot temperature, just to cool back down immediately. All of a sudden I feel extremely cold and extremely sick. Like an overdose of the right drug. And when he stares directly into my eyes, my nervous vocal chords form tones, booming in my ears like a sledgehammer.

„Dean"

Dean's eyes fill with tears again and his lip begin to tremble, as if he would start to shout any moment. He just stares at me and does absolutely nothing. I decide to take away the burden of the first step from him and move towards him with slow steps. I put on my most calming smile, even when I'm not calm at all. Inside me everything spins and torments like a storm of horrible nervousness and happiness and pain and it's hardly possible to tame it. Still, I try to look as calm as I can. I stop in front of him and while fixing his gaze, I lay my hand on his shoulder. It feels like the long desired shot of my drug, but still not enough, as if I wouldn't really put the needle into my flesh, but just a bit. Just enough not to lose my mind over it.

Suddenly Dean's legs don't seem to be willing to carry him and threaten to make him fall. I grab him just in time and hold him tight. Dean claws into the collar of my trench coat with all the energy his sleep needing, drunk body can afford. The trench coat I took from his beloved car, before coming here. Watched over like a treasure he was stored there. But I had to get it. It feels right to wear it. And something inside me was scared he wouldn't recognize me without it.

„Cas" he breathed with gravel in his voice „you're back?"

„Yes"

„You're back"

„Yes, Dean"

„You're…"

I feel his tears wetting my shoulder and his chin trembling in my neck. And his whole body with it. He moans and gets back onto his feet. A small, even when barely visible smile pushes itself on his lips and clarity into his eyes.

„Cas" Dean whispers again and puts his hand to my neck. His other hand lays in my neck as well and I feel caged and safe as never before at the same time. He eyeballs me. I smile.

„Cas" he whispers another time „Cas, I love you"

„I know, Dean" I answer quietly and a little smile plays around my mouth, because I really know.


End file.
